Urgent Contact

"Looking for Wu Laoer: your maternal third uncle has come to seek refuge. Come at once to the Xinyi Hotel outside North Station. Your third uncle is waiting for you."

Fen Daily was a local Shanghai newspaper, written in the Shanghai dialect. Workers on the clandestine front often used newspapers as a means of communication, usually these sorts of small local papers. There was no other reason—mainly, they were cheap. No one would think to use Shen Daily to look for someone.

And newspapers were not necessarily used to send messages through missing-person notices. They could also write articles, tell stories, or even arrange for the headline of a particular news item on a particular page, or different punctuation marks at the end. The key was the "arrangement"—that was human ingenuity.

Wang Yan wore a dark-blue long gown, but paired it with Western trousers and handmade genuine-leather brogue shoes in the English style. His hair was slicked into a lavish pompadour. A costly Swiss watch adorned his wrist, while a vivid green thumb ring inscribed by Qianlong himself was clasped around his thumb. He was a proper blend of East and West.

With one leg crossed over the other, he sat in a breakfast shop he frequented and ate his usual extravagant breakfast. Among the stack of assorted newspapers, such a message abruptly entered his sight.

His gaze did not linger on it for even an instant before he set down the local paper and turned to the others.

Another week had passed since moving into Wang Residence. The joint operation between the Loyalty and Righteousness National Salvation Army and the Red Party guerrillas still showed no sign of movement, and he had no serious business to attend to. The Japanese had reduced import and export tariffs, allowing his business